Do You Know What This Is?

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Why, it's a chicken finger, of course.

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Sometimes you come up with the silliest ideas for blog posts when you are waiting a seeming eternity for the pediatrician to come in and see your highly active little man.

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I am determined to make this blog post the first evidence of my return to posting more regularly.

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I heard that. I distinctly heard 3 or 4 of you scoff and snort out loud as you said, "Lauren post regularly ?!"

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Well...I use the term, "regularly" loosely. I mean...once a year can be considered regular, right?

So, this post will represent the ushering in of my posting more frequently...

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And because of my lousy posting record...let's hope a return to posting more frequently doesn't usher in the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse, or something...with my recent luck...

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...just kidding...
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I had to post this picture for my friend Mary who gave John this darling little coat...and in my defense the NURSE gave John this lollipop as we were leaving. It must stand approved by the American Academy of Pediatrics if a nurse gave it to him, right?

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After 1 Year, 3 Months, 1 Week and 6 Days...

...Little John finally came completely off of oxygen. I know, I could have simply said that after 16 months of life John is completely off of oxygen...but it is more fun to be all specific about it.

On Saturday September 4th, Little John spent the night at the Children's Medical Center to have a, "sleep study" performed. The purpose of the sleep study was to determine if John's blood oxygen levels were solid and high enough for him to sleep without the aid of oxygen. Two months prior to the sleep study, the pulmonologist began to slowly wean John off of using the oxygen 24 hours a day to only using the oxygen when he slept (including nap times and nighttime).

Here is the family walking into the medical center for the sleep study. I already had a steady stream of happy tears rolling down my cheeks when I took this picture. In retrospect, 16 months really isn't that long of a time to be on oxygen...but I was really anxious, hopeful, and excited to see the end of the use of oxygen in sight.

I was also crying when I took this picture because we had just seen a toddler that was in a full body cast enjoying some outside time with his family. His mother was very teary...and seeing her anguish brought an immediate rush of emotion that hit me like a freight train. To be frank, I have been experiencing some emotions that are...well...something akin to, "survivor's guilt". I need to write an entire post dedicated to those feelings...but, suffice it to say, by the time we reached the 4th floor of the Children's Medical Center I had to take some cleansing breaths to calm myself and focus on the joy of the fact that this visit to the hospital was most likely going to result in my baby being taken off of oxygen forever.


When we got to the 4th floor we were thrilled to discover that the entire waiting room had been transformed since our last visit (when John had pneumonia) to an indoor playground with foam sculptures for the waiting children to climb on.

Mike and Evan engaged in a cutthroat game of Memory (that was bolted to the wall for the players' convenience).

John was not interested in holding still for me to stage a proper photo shoot. I kept saying, "John, John, look at me...." to which Mike replied, speaking for John, "No, Mama, I'm ready to hatch."

These two were happy to pose, at least.

Once we were ushered back to the room we let John play in his bed in hopes that he would get used to it before all of the electrodes had to be adhered to him.

We got to bring some of his blankies and toys with us.

Brian said, "Look it's like John is in jail and he is wearing the jail pants that Aunt Stephanie gave him!" Thanks for the, "jail pants", Aunt Stephanie.

Of course, everyone wanted to pose like they were incarcerated. This had better be the last time I see these three behind bars.

Brian was repositioning when I took this picture...so, of course, he demanded to be in the next one...

...and Brian's back...

...and, uh...John appears to be having some sort of an out of body experience in this one....

Mike spent the night with John and I took the older boys home. I called Mike right before I went to bed and ended waking poor John up. I felt like dirt when I heard John crying in the background. Mike said on the phone that he felt prompted to turn the phone off seconds before it rang. I really hate it when my poor choices are the reason for a prompting.

Mike made sure he took pictures in the morning when the study was concluded. They put the netting over top of the electrodes to insure that he didn't knock them out of place as he slept.

All of the electrode wires were encased in the black tubing that is around him in this picture.

How heartbreaking is this picture? I know. Poor little man. This was taken right before they took the electrodes off.

Happy to be all done and more than ready to go home.

We were told that it could take up to two weeks for the doctors to analyze all of the data from the sleep study and to continue to have John use the oxygen while he slept until the results were in. It only took one week and we got the call that John's study proved that oxygen was no longer necessary. I was giddy when I called the medical supply company and told them they could come pick up the oxygen tanks and the apnea monitor.

It has been wonderful to not have to tape the nasal cannula to his face and strap the apnea monitor around his chest each night. We continued to use the apnea monitor the entire time that John was on oxygen, even though he had not had a true apnea spell (meaning his breathing was truly interrupted or labored) for months. (Sometimes the monitor's alarm would go off if one of the wires became loose as John slept. The monitor would register with a reading of, "Loose Leads" when that happened.) We felt that as long as John was sleeping with the nasal cannula taped to him, it was best to use the apnea monitor in case the tubing wrapped around his neck and choked him in some way because, to my horror, I found him with it wrapped around his neck on three separate occasions when I went to get him up from his naps.

So, in the journey of recovering from a premature birth, John has left the need for oxygen behind. Should I close with a parting shot about how we are all, "breathing easier" now that John is off of oxygen, or is that too cheesy?

...no need to answer that..."cheesy" is my middle name...and we are all, "breathing easier", indeed.

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Hittin' the Road

The once beloved Batman Bed

I shouldn't be blogging right now...I should be packing for our trip to New York. I have Little John's apnea monitor, oxygen tanks, and medicine all ready to be loaded. I just have to finish folding laundry and packing...and by packing, I mean cramming, said folded laundry, into suitcases.

I remember when we drove to the beach 2 summers ago and two hours into the 7 to 8 hour car trip Brian exclaimed, "I CAN'T JUST SIT HERE ALL DAY!!"

At that moment I remember turning to Mike and muttering, "We're doomed."

Let's hope Brian is better able to, "sit here all day", this trip.

We are very excited to visit the Big Apple. We also get to visit family along the way up and on the way back. I am a little fearful, though. The purpose of this trip is to visit my Nana Weinstein. Nana has been in the hospital for months (in hospice care). My Aunt Lynny keeps warning me that I really won't recognize Nana and it may take her some time to recognize me. I am not sure why, but I am really frightened to see my Nana so changed by age and disoriented. I hope I will mask my fear well.

So, robbers...like last time...if you break into the house please leave the Batman bed alone. Brian has informed us that he is no longer into Batman, though. His new passion is wolves. He reads books about wolves, draws wolves and tries to live as a wolf would live. The other day when I offered him a towel after he got out of the bathtub he explained that he was going to just, "Shake off" like wolves do. He is also reluctant to don any sort of footwear. I mean, when is the last time you saw a wolf wearing flip flops?

I have an idea...I was planning on attempting this myself at some point...but robbers, if you break into my house, would you mind painting over the Batman symbol we painted on Brian's Batman bed? I am thinking that maybe you could paint a majestic wolf howling at the moon? Thanks, robbers. You're the best. My artistic abilities are so limited.
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Today is my 40th Birthday...

...there, I said it...

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I said it out loud...

...hmmm? I admitted it...and nothing disastrous happened...

...my admitting it didn't seem to usher in the Apocalypse...

...so, I guess it's okay...

So, dear blog friends...I was wondering if you would de-lurk for me on the occasion of my 40th birthday? I have seen other blog friends do this and to be honest, I am dying to know who out there may read...or openly mock...the writing on this blog. So, as a huge favor to me...if you ever read this blog would you let me know who you are and how you came upon it?

...and if you are a regular reader...will you assure me that age 40 is really the new age 28?

...thanks so much. I am totally excited to see who comments...

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...even though I am a little worried that you will think I am completely narcissistic for even asking...

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It's Good to be Queen

This post is going to come across as completely and totally random. You see, I have this problem...I set these unattainable expectations for myself and if I can't be perfect at the task I am trying to achieve, I sort of jump ship and abandon the project all together. I began this post nearly two months ago and have come back to edit and re-edit it repeatedly. The original title was, "Overall Medical Update" but as John grows, his medical status changes slightly, so I kept trying to update..and then I got overwhelmed...and then...well, I abandoned ship.
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So, as Queen of this blog I set forth this royal decree...(heh, heh, heh, "a decree"...it's so good to be Queen of something.)
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I am hereby taking all pressure off of myself to update the blog on Little John's medical status in its entirety. I now decree that I will post his medical status in increments.
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Boy Howdy, I feel much better. I like being a Royal.
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(Oh, for pity sake, I just mentally heard my brother Frank say, "Yeah, a Royal Pain in the rear end." Why do you haunt me so, Frank?)
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Also, I hereby decree that I am absolved of all guilt that posting about my children may not be fair or equal for the next several weeks. I cringe when I post about 1 child more than the others...but, NO MORE, as Her Majesty as decreed any posting will be guilt free.
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Oh, and these pictures are in random order...but Her Highness had decreed that, well...that's okay, too.

Here is a random picture of what we have been dealing with as of late. John has taken to ripping his oxygen cannula free from his nose and sucking on it. I get really discouraged when Little John does this but my sweet Adam said, "It's okay, Mom...he is still getting the oxygen he needs...he is just swallowing it!" How could I ever get discouraged with Adam around?
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I simply cannot believe that John has turned 1 year old. It has been quite a year for him and for our family. I have wanted to blog all about his birth story for months now, and I have a goal to do so, but first I wanted to bring the blog up to date on his medical status...in the aforementioned royally decreed increments.

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When a child is born prematurely they can have a myriad of medical problems and overall health issues. We have been very blessed that John, as he develops and grows, has left a lot of his original, "preemie problems" behind.

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I mentioned many posts ago that John has to regularly see an opthamologist that specializes in retina detachment surgery. Preemies are at risk of having their retinas detach because, firstly, the oxygen can cause detachment because of the pressure it can put on the eyes, and secondly, when a child is born prematurely the blood vessels in their eyes often do not grow straight, but instead, "bunch up" and cause pressure that forces the retina away from the rest of the eye. If the retinas reach a level of detachment that the eye surgeon called a grade of 3B, eye surgery has to be performed to prevent blindness. The retina detachment in John's eyes got to a grade of 3A and I feared that he would have to have surgery. But, the week after that diagnosis his eyes began to heal. The surgeon had us come in weekly to check his progress and each week the detachment appeared to be healing. When the healing had reached a level of detachment of only a 1B the doctor had us come back in once a month. I held my breath every time we went back in....and during our last visit the doctor said, "They look normal." I asked him to repeat himself, as he is a man of few words and I wanted to make sure I heard him correctly...and he said simply, "Normal...they look normal." I wonder what he would have done if I had bear hugged him after he told me that...because I was so relieved that is what I felt like doing.

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John still has what the doctor calls, "Reflux" in his right kidney. Basically the bladder kicks urine back into the kidney (refluxing the urine) instead of releasing it normally. He has to take an antibiotic daily to keep infection from forming in his kidney. If this condition does not clear on his own, he will have to have surgery to correct the angle of his ureter ( "a muscular duct or tube conveying the urine from a kidney to the bladder" as defined by dictionary.com) on his right side so that the reflux will stop. The great news about his kidneys is, he used to have swelling in both kidneys (hydronephrosis) which has cleared entirely on its own. Also, his left kidney used to reflux, too but that cleared on its own, as well.
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John is still given a series of medications twice daily...but her majesty will post that list in it's entirety, later, and will feel no guilt for not doing so at this time. (Sorry, you missed me waving my royal scepter...it was very regal, let me tell you). He currently takes two daily doses of Zantac and Prilosec to help him with his reflux problems.

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Here is a series of pictures of his last, "Swallow Study" at the hospital. John's pediatrician ordered the tests to make sure he wasn't still aspirating when he swallows. When John aspirates fluid is forced down into his lungs because he isn't swallowing correctly. His pediatrician was concerned that his lungs were still very weak and wanted to rule out his swallowing incorrectly as a possible reason.

I love this x-ray technician. She is so kind and patient with me. When John had to have what they call a VCUG (a horrible procedure that is done to evaluate the child's bladder's shape, size and capacity and examine the urethra, that John had to be catheterized for) I burst into tears before laying him on the huge and scary table. She was so kind and grabbed me tissues and waited until I had myself under control before she proceeded. I agonized when he had to have the catheter put in place.

Here he is with the radiologist as he sets up the swallow study.

He started whimpering so I tried to play peek-a-boo with him as the technician and radiologist readied the enormous X-ray machine. Baby was not buying into the game of peek-a-boo. I am not joking...he looked at me like, "You've gotta be kidding, lady."

All done with the big scary machine. I have to admit...I think the little bitty hospital gowns are pretty darling. Still though, I'd prefer John never have to don one again.

This picture was taken so that I could capture on film how mean that that big brother Evan is. Sometimes Evan will, "speak for" John by, *ahem* gently helping his mouth move. Strangely, all of the things that Little John says with Evan's help serve Evan's personal agenda. For example, with Evan's assistance, John will, "say" things along the lines of, "Momma, I think you need to buy me some chocolate ice cream when you go to the grocery store...or, Mom, my big brothers don't need to go to bed...I want them to stay up late." Evan actually learned this trick from my sister Stephanie. When John was first released from the NICU...and then 1 week later had to be re-hospitalized, Stephanie came to the wilds of Georgia to help me. When John came home from his re-hospitalization I was crying as I held him one evening because I was thrilled that he was home but petrified that he was so fragile. As I held him I just kept feeling completely and totally overwhelmed. I coo-ed to him something along the lines of, "Oh, John, you are so sweet." and to make me laugh, Stephanie, pulled down his little chin slightly and said in a sweet little high pitched voice, "No, Momma...I'm mean." It made me burst out in laughter...which I really needed to quell the fear that was ever present inside me those first few weeks that Little John was home.

Somebody thinks is is acceptable to attend family scripture study practically nude. Indeed! (John had just vomited all over himself so I had stripped him down while everyone took turns reading. He was taken directly to the bathtub after family prayer was said. Mike was helping Brian sound some words out when I took the picture.

Grandma and Grandad Marshman came to visit over Spring Break 2010. John would not leave their poor dog, Crissy, alone. Crissy was very patient with him, thankfully. (Hey, Jaime...do you recognize that outfit? *sniff*...

Here we see a forlorn Davy Crockett returning from a Luau. Adam was dressing John up one afternoon and I thought he looked so cute that I tried to get a picture. For the longest time, whenever you put a camera in front of John he stopped smiling and stared at it like this. I promise he really wasn't upset. The faux coon skin cap and faux Hawaiian lei make me laugh.

I started playing peek-a-boo with him and was able to capture the King of the wild Frontier smiling, this time. I declare, he is the cutest little faux buckskin buccaneer, I ever did see.

Helping Daddy make tie blankets for Christmas presents.

Christmas Day 2009 proved to be too much excitement for the little man. He kept falling asleep wherever we put him to enjoy the festivities.

John Daniel: The Christmas 2009 edition.

I know I should mend these pajamas...but every time I see that sweet little toe poking out I laugh.

Here is another out of order, random picture.Brian begged me to take this one. He had wrapped John up in this blanket and yelled, "Mom, I dressed John like baby Jesus!!!"

My camera died and my sister Stephanie mailed me her old one! Well, what is it they say at used car lots now? The cars are never, "used" anymore, they are, "Previously Owned"...Stephanie sent me her, previously owned, camera. I was so giddy and grateful when I got it. In this picture I hadn't learned how to turn off the flash yet so I am blinding poor John with it. I wonder why I fret so much about the oxygen and prematurity possibly rendering poor Little John blind...when I single handedly blind him with a camera flash all on my lonesome. Poor little guy.

And thus ends her majesty, The Queen's, random, out of order pictures, post.

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I'm Old.

Me at a 3 months of age. I should have shown the Elder that we even had colored film when I was a baby.

Recently, when we had the full time missionaries over for dinner the Elders (the official title for male, full time missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) were asking about when Mike and I served our full time missions. (Mike went to Italy, I went to Texas.) The conversation was lovely, as both Mike and I love to share mission stories with anyone that will listen. Then, one of the Elders asked if Mike and I used filmstrips to teach people about the gospel. (Missionaries teach about the church with a series of lessons. When I was on my mission we taught 6 individual lessons called, 'discussions' that shared all about our faith. Occasionally, missionaries will show a video to reinforce what the lessons taught).


Don't worry...I didn't come across the table and try to wring the youthful Elder's neck...


Although, I should have tried...it may have been fun to see how much strength the old girl has left in her...


I laughed and said something along the lines of, "No, when Mike and I were in the mission field they had these newfangled things called VCR's to show people these cutting edge forms of media called video tapes.


It was interesting to me that the Elder assumed that we were old enough to have used filmstrips as opposed to videos. It was kind of like being asked by a child if, "They had invented TV when I was little or if we just had the radio."


Not that any of my children would ask me something so insensitive. *cough*


I have been feeling really old, lately...


It has been interesting to have a baby at the age of 38. Okay, fine, I was 38 when Little John was born (or surgically removed as I still call it) and I turned 39, 14 days later. Don't confuse me with the facts...I was still only 38 when John was born. Late night feedings and all of the other things that come with a tiny baby have been a lot more exhausting than they were some 6 years earlier when Brian was a baby. I have told Mike repeatedly that, "I musta' broke somethin' in the last 6 years, cause this is hard."


The other day Evan announced, "Hey Mom, you and Dad are gonna be 60 when John is on his mission." (Young men leave to serve missions at the age of 19)


I immediately protested with a defensive, "We will not.....*blink*...*blink*......will we, Mike?" (60 seemed so old to me)


Mike thought about it for a minute and then said, "Well, you will be 58 when he leaves but I will only be 57."

To which I defensively added, "Well...for only part of the year...I'm only 5 months older than you are."

Then we exchanged our usual banter about me being a, "cougar".


Brian will occasionally say in a teasing tone, "Mooooom, you are gonna be siiiiiixty on John's missssssssssiooooon." I know that Brian doesn't understand all of the implications as to why being 60 and having a child in the mission field makes me mortified...but he knows that it drew a great reaction from me when the conversation originally came up so he continues to taunt me. (Brian may look more like me, but trust me, he is his father's child.)

Evan, who has been looking through all of my high school yearbooks lately, announced to me the other day, "Hey mom, when we have a 'Spirit Week' we will have 80's day...I saw in your yearbook that you are so old that you had 50's day or 60's day." I couldn't believe it...he was right...I am old enough for my child to dress up like I did in high school.


At the beginning of this school year, we asked all of the kids how they liked their new teachers. When it was Evan's turn we asked him how he likes his new English teacher, Ms. Norris. (Ms. Norris is an adorable, size 2, little blonde...you know the type...) Evan responded with a nonchalant, "She's fine." to which Mike replied teasingly..."She's fine? or She is fiiiiiiiine?" (are you noticing a theme here? Mike likes to tease. He often teases the boys that girls from school are their girlfriends to glean a reaction. He is never mean spirited, though. It is all good natured banter)

Anyway...later in the week, I found a long, brown, strand of hair (most likely mine) on Brian's shoulder. I wanted to tease him about having a girlfriend the way Mike will try and tease the boys. I said something along the lines of, "Briaaannnn, I found a long hair on your shoulder...It obviously belongs to a giiiirl...is it your girlfriend's?"


To which he replied dryly, "No mom, it's your hair...because your hair is getting old and it's falling off."


Well, alrighty then.


Now I am going to go take a nap. If nothing else, this post provides ample proof that I am no spring chicken anymore, and could benefit from frequent naps.
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This Just In...

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It Snowed in Georgia!!
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and there has been much joy and rejoicing...

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Notice, Adam is wearing gardening gloves and Evan is wearing my gloves. When we lived in Virginia we had plenty of snow gloves, but not anymore.


At least Brian was able to wear hand-me-down snow gloves from our days in Virginia. Here he is working on a snowman.

Here we see Evan trying to make a sled out of the recycling bin. We didn't bring any sleds with us when we moved to Georgia because we thought we would never need them. I told him the recycling bin would never work because it has holes in the bottom...I was also quick to point out that it would probably have worked a little better if he had actually taken the items to be recycled out of the bin prior to trying to sled in it.


As the afternoon wore on and more and more snow kept falling the boys started to make a snow fort to, "Ambush Dad!!" when he got home from work.


The whole backyard was soon covered.


I was trying to take an, "artsy" picture of this tree because it looked so beautiful, but it really didn't work.


The front yard. By the time the snow quit falling I would say we got three inches.

Brian completed his snowman with the help of Evan and Adam. I even think Mike helped...after he was ambushed with snowballs, of course.

...and this is how Little John spent his time during our first snow storm in Georgia.


(He was actually sleeping with this teething bear in his mouth, but the time I got back with the camera he had spit it out)

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I am afraid to drive in Georgia right now. No, not because I have forgotten how to drive in snow in the four years since we moved from Virginia, but because the people in this town evidently. cannot. drive. I feel that I am at liberty to make this judgment because this past Tuesday night marked the THIRD CAR ACCIDENT that was not our fault that Mike or I have been involved in either on the way to, or returning from Young Men/Young Women/Boy Scouts/Cub Scouts. Tuesday night's accident occurred on my way to drop Evan and Adam off at their activities. It was raining and slick and as I turned onto a road and was still in the merge lane the car behind me was following too closely. I slowed down and waited to merge because the light for the oncoming traffic was still green and the traffic was moving quickly on the wet roads and there was a glare that made it difficult to see. The car behind me tried to get around me on my left and scraped the back panel and bumper on the driver's side.

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Again.

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You may remember this little experience. Yeah, same exact driver's side rear quarter panel and bumper took a hit.

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I am thinking of painting a large, bright, target on my driver's side back bumper and panel...you know, just to be more efficient.

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I guess if I didn't want Evan to take the new electric skillet that Mike got me for Christmas to the combined Young Men/Young Women activity for a quesadilla making contest...I could have just said so...instead of somehow managing to get in yet another car accident.

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All joking aside though, nobody was hurt and if being inconvenienced the night of the accident and during the upcoming repairs is all I have to face, well...then, I lead a pretty blessed existence.

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But nobody is allowed to sit in that back seat on the driver's side (like Adam was this past Tuesday night and Evan was during the accident in March'08) anymore, either.

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